


Krakatoa

by Katblu42



Category: Kagaku Ninja Tai Gatchaman & Related Fandoms, Kagaku Ninja Tai Gatchaman | Science Ninja Team Gatchaman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 10:16:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17764880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katblu42/pseuds/Katblu42
Summary: Written for KT1972 in the Gatchamania Gift Exchange 2018.The prompt was:I want to see Nambu's nasty side. We know he has a temper as demonstrated when Jun lost her shoe, and Ken lost his bracelet... but what else could make him blow his top, so to speak? And is his anger justified?





	Krakatoa

**Krakatoa**

 

Kozaburo Nambu entered his office in the ISO tower, coffee in hand, ready to face the pile of paperwork that had gathered on his desk during his absence from Utoland City.  With a sigh he cleared a space to set down his coffee, sat himself down and began to prioritise the folders, messages and papers before him.  This time he had only been gone for ten days – a progress check on a number of Mantle Project facilities in Ameris and Ameria.  Much of the damage suffered during the Black Hole Operation had now been repaired.  Rebuilt infrastructure and new machinery had enabled day to day operations of these facilities to return to something resembling normal.  Some of the ISO projects and structures in other parts of the world still had much further to go before all of the devastating effects of Katse’s final dastardly scheme would be counteracted.

Barely five minutes after sitting down there was an unexpected knock on the door.  His guest did not wait to be asked to enter. 

“Director Anderson,” Dr Nambu greeted his visitor.  “What can I do for you?” 

His guest gave no immediate answer, but remained silent as he entered the room and sat in one of the chairs facing Dr Nambu across the desk.

“I take it this isn’t a social visit,” Dr Nambu prompted. 

“No, indeed.” Director Anderson kept his gaze downward, not meeting Dr Nambu’s eye.  “I’ve been sent to inform you of the outcome of a meeting which took place a few days ago.” 

Dr Nambu didn’t ask who was at this meeting that obviously concerned him, or something he would be asked to do.  He merely raised an eyebrow.

“A number of ISO Board members put their heads together and called a snap meeting.” 

“While I was away?” Dr Nambu sounded thoughtful, but the unspoken accusation in his question was not missed by Anderson, who sighed. 

“I can only speculate as to why . . .” 

“So, this is why Warren Matthews was suddenly unable to inspect the Mantle Energy facility in San Angelese with me.” A furrow was beginning to appear in Dr Nambu’s brow.  “His second in charge was unprepared and overly nervous, rendering his presence next to useless.” 

“That is regrettable.”  Director Anderson studied the features of his old friend, noting the hairline cracks in the usual calm demeanour.  “I can confirm Matthews was in attendance.”

There was a brief silence, as though neither party was sure they wanted to take this conversation where it would inevitably lead.  Director Anderson knew that the subtle changes in Nambu’s expression were signs of annoyance, but his own hesitation spoke volumes about the type of news that was yet to come. 

“What was the subject of this meeting?”  Dr Nambu asked.

“The Science Ninja Team.”

“They wished to discuss the Team without me?”  Dr Nambu could feel tension in his jaw, something that suggested he was trying not to grit his teeth.

“Well, you do have somewhat of a reputation for . . . shall we say, fiery reactions.”  Director Anderson paused, recalling examples of interns reduced to tears and a certain hole punched in a wall back when they were both much younger men.  “They have not forgotten the twelve hour lock-in during the V2 crisis.  
“I believe their intention was to talk through some possibilities before approaching you with the direction the board wants to take.” 

“It is not up to the Board to make decisions concerning the Science Ninja Team.”  He could feel his face beginning to flush pink, and he struggled not to raise his voice. 

“Their view is that while the Team answer to you, the ISO employs you and provides many of the resources that the Team have at their disposal.  Therefore the ISO Board has the right to decide on matters involving the future of the Science Ninja Team.” 

“The future?  Of a team the Board _suggested_ be retired after the Black Hole Operation was thwarted?!”

“A number of Board members and other associates have become concerned at the increased number of reports on suspected new Galactor activity.” 

“I bet I can guess which Board members.  And I know who they are hearing these reports from, too.  Reports that I know much more about than any of those pompous stuffed shirts, military wannabes and political brown-nosers.”  Dr Nambu could feel the throbbing begin in his temples as he tried to keep his emotions in check. 

“They just want to be prepared if things get out of hand again.  No one wants to be caught unprepared like last time.” 

“Unprepared?!  _They_ were unprepared because they refused to see the signs.  They refused to listen when concerns were raised years in advance of any full-scale attack.”

“We know we owe much to your foresight, Koza.  And to the team.”  Director Anderson’s forefinger and thumb combed his moustache.  “We’re also keenly aware of the losses you suffered.” 

Dr Nambu found himself suddenly aware of the white-knuckle grip he had on the edge of the desk.  He took a deep, silent breath, relaxed his grasp and kept his voice steady.  “Just tell me what you came here to say.”

Director Anderson took his own slow, steadying breath.  “The Board have decided to re-instate the Science Ninja Team.”  He watched Dr Nambu, the cracks widening into fissures.  “As a five member squad.”  He could almost see the growl Kozaburo was holding back through his clenched jaw.  “If you refuse to find a new team member the Board will appoint one.  If you or the current Team members refuse to reform the squad, then the ISO will create a new team.  In that case you will be required to turn over all information pertaining to the Team’s training, weapons, vehicles, their uniforms and the transformation technology, and all research and development into anything developed for the team, even if it was not ultimately used.” 

“The ISO has no right to that kind of information.”  Dr Nambu felt like a long dormant volcano on the verge of eruption.  The anger bubbling away beneath the surface like magma, the pressure building, searching for a weak point in the surface of the mountain. 

“They see it differently.  ISO funding and resources went into developing the team’s vehicles and weapons, not to mention maintenance and running materials.”

“For over a decade the ISO had no interest in what I spent my own time and money on in the development of the Team and the technology involved in their success.  Now they expect me to hand over . . .” the sentence devolved into something like a snarl as Dr Nambu rose to his feet.  Now red in the face, he forced himself to take another deep breath before managing to speak a quiet command.  “Out.” 

“Kozaburo . . .” Anderson tried to reason with him.

“Out!” Dr Nambu roared.  “Get out of my office before I do something I regret.” 

Director Anderson eased himself out of his chair and turned to go.  As he neared the door he turned back.  “You have two days to decide.  After that they will be asking you for the data.”

Dr Nambu waited until the door closed behind Director Anderson’s departing form, then let out a long, primal bellow.  His right arm swept across the desk sending the phone, folders, pens and papers flying, and the coffee mug hurtling into the wall where it shattered and splashed into a shower of porcelain shards and luke-warm coffee splatter.  Both fists slammed down hard on the now clear surface of the desk.  Jinpei wouldn’t be pleased at the fate of the mug, which had been a Christmas gift.  He regretted the mess but better that than throwing a knock-out punch at a friend who was merely delivering a message.  

How petty to hold a secret meeting and use a friend to soften the blow.  Did they really think he hadn’t already considered the need for countermeasures against a new Galactor threat?  The reason the Board members were hearing reports and rumours was because of the measures _he_ had put in place from the day Sosai X had disappeared.  Former Galactor strongholds had been under observation this whole time.  Agents had been investigating every suspicious activity that could even remotely be linked back to Galactor.  Where did they think their military contacts and political pals were getting these reports from in the first place? 

Of course he had considered recalling the Science Ninja Team to active duty.  Ken, Jun, Jinpei and Ryu were now the world’s most experienced elite combat team.  The world’s most effective defence against the kind of evils Galactor was capable of.  Red Impulse Squadron was gone.  Countless UN forces had been lost during the years of terror.   It was understandable that the ISO Board would want to make sure their best weapon was ready for the battle that appeared to be looming.

He had never intended for them to be weapons.  His vision for them was a team of investigators, gatherers of information – spies, as well as rescuers, defenders of the Earth.  All of them had been changed by the battles of the past, hardened, forced to face adulthood quicker than they should.  They had all fought so hard, given so much of themselves and been through such emotional turmoil.  Didn’t they deserve to have peace?  

Damn it!  Why couldn’t Galactor have the decency to stay defeated?! 

The ISO Board had no right to make this demand, but the ultimatum was forcing him to deal with a decision he had already realised needed to be made.  He could put it off no longer.  

He knew they would return to active duty if he asked.  They would do it _because_ he asked – because it was what he had trained them to do.  They would be ready to take the weight of the world on their young shoulders all over again, and do it despite being a man down.  And he realised he didn’t want them to.  Not again.  They had done what he had asked.  They had exceeded his expectations.  

He had considered training others, forming a new Team but, like a fool he had let himself believe there would be time.  Galactor would move even faster this time.  They were no longer a secret, underground movement that governments and military forces would overlook.  There was no time to train a new group.  He knew the pool of candidates the ISO Board would want to choose from, and pulling together five people with complimentary skill sets and training them to work together as a cohesive team would not be as easy, or work as effectively as they thought it would.  His Team had been successful because their training had been over the course of years, not months or weeks, and the strength of their bond had begun forming in childhood.  Their fighting techniques were innovative and unique, partly born from experimentation and play – not based on tried and tested military style combat techniques learned in bootcamp.  Their weapons and vehicles were specifically designed for each one’s individual skills and strengths – not mass produced so they could be utilised by armies, or sold to the highest bidder.

There was no chance in Hell that the Board would ever get their hands on any of the detailed information pertaining to the Science Ninja Team and their equipment.  Dr Nambu knew where certain Board members’ loyalties lay.  Their intentions might be good, but they would bow to political pressure, or financial gain, or military might.  Team members would be chosen based on advice from politicians and Generals.  Weapons and vehicles would be designed so they could be used by soldiers and airmen.  Compromises would be made so budgets could be met.  There were many reasons the technology behind the transformation remained in his hands alone.  He would not give up these secrets.  That left only one option.

Replace Joe.  The Board didn’t know what they were asking.  How could anyone be expected to step into his place?  It would be near impossible for someone to just slot into a team who had been training and working together so closely for so long that they could instinctively read each other’s moves in battle.  It would take time to build trust and teamwork.  They needed to be five working as one, seamlessly, without needing to think.  He knew the Team would resist the idea of adding someone new.  But the most galling part was that the Board members were right – they needed a fifth. 

Dr Nambu’s anger was dissipating, the eruption of molten rock and superheated gas had become a slow moving river of lava hissing and steaming as it cooled.  Instead the deep-seated dull ache of grief had made its presence felt.  It was always there, but at times – like now – he could still be surprised by the depth of pain he felt at Joe’s loss.  He had felt grief before, had lost colleagues, family, friends.  Even the loss of his closest friend, Kentaro Washio, had not felt – did not feel like this.  This ache that carried the sadness at a loved one taken too soon, the pride in the young man that he was and all he had achieved, and the bitterness at never being able to know the man he would have become; The memories of all the arguments, the disciplining, the struggles and also the moments of thoughtfulness, fierce loyalty and compassion.  And the guilt. 

“I’m sorry, Joe,” Dr Nambu thought aloud.  “The job’s not yet done.  They will have to fight again.  I know they will want to do it for you – to get the vengeance you deserved.  I cannot leave your place on the team unfilled, but you are not being replaced or forgotten.”  He sighed, closed his eyes and uttered a quiet prayer.  “Watch over them Joe, the way I know you always did.  Be with them when I can’t, guide them from the shadows, catch them when they fall, whisper in Ken’s ear when he doubts himself.  Be their dark-winged angel.” 

He opened his eyes and surveyed the office.  With a clearer head and a new resolve he picked up the phone and some of the papers and set them on the desk.  Next he removed the lower desk drawer and retrieved a small key from a secret compartment in the back.  He replaced the drawer and strode across the room to the bookcase.  Sliding out a thin volume marked with a Latin title in faded lettering activated a sliding panel which revealed a small wooden box.   He retrieved the box, set the bookcase back to normal and returned to his desk.  With a steady hand he unlocked the box.  Sitting inside were five wristband devices.  Time to make some calls.


End file.
